Allan blew his [cream] horn at dinner, and he made a mess. And then he decided to see how far he could shoot it. It was rather nasty, and so was the moment when we discovered that the caf's pesto sauce floats in orange juice, making it look unsettlingly like bile.
Anyway, I just got really distracted. The ugly snow has melted and become mist, and I'm craving the rest of my cracked pepper chips.
Monday, December 6
Sunday, December 5
Chain reaction
Today was my last Juletide performance. Ever. It's a very empty feeling right now, sort of in the pit of the stomach. It's something that I'll never do again, and I'm glad to have participated in it, for all of the long reahearsals, aching feet, colds, increasingly crazy Glorias ... it's been well worth it.
I didn't think that I was going to cry - I was good all the way through both of our pieces, even though TP had his Look. I was even good through candle-lighting. But then I looked at Westie Nobes as he signaled the last cutoff, and he just looked so incredibly old and frail that one solitary tear slid down my cheek in sympathy. As we all know, tears follow the "safety in numbers" philosophy. By the end of the finale, I was definitely having some leakage. I saw Franzie from across the way, and I saw her crying [or at least fighting off tears] and finally I just let them fall. I can't stand watching friends cry alone, so I have to help.
And we bowed, and the tears kept coming down. And TP acknowledged Westie, and he gave his final bow, and I cried more, because it's just sad when old men cry.
Then the concert was over, and we took our senior picture. Our "usual group" was clustered in the middle, with the rest of the seniors from the other choirs surrounding us. Somebody started singing songs from our freshman and sophomore years in choir, and everyone joined in, laughing and crying all at once. We were a spectacle.
Our group left the seniors and joined Timmy and Scowly-Bling in the CRH, so we could have some private pictures. It seemed like everyone's parents were there to take pictures except mine, but I wasn't the only one. [Mine were here on Friday, and Thadd and Timmy and I took a couple of photos by Oedipus and Antigone, and Thadd's parents were here before, too ...] I'm excited to see our line-up shot - it's like show choir, sort of, and I've got a yoga pose going on.
But it's the end. And it's also started snowing. I'm not sure how I feel about either of those things.
I didn't think that I was going to cry - I was good all the way through both of our pieces, even though TP had his Look. I was even good through candle-lighting. But then I looked at Westie Nobes as he signaled the last cutoff, and he just looked so incredibly old and frail that one solitary tear slid down my cheek in sympathy. As we all know, tears follow the "safety in numbers" philosophy. By the end of the finale, I was definitely having some leakage. I saw Franzie from across the way, and I saw her crying [or at least fighting off tears] and finally I just let them fall. I can't stand watching friends cry alone, so I have to help.
And we bowed, and the tears kept coming down. And TP acknowledged Westie, and he gave his final bow, and I cried more, because it's just sad when old men cry.
Then the concert was over, and we took our senior picture. Our "usual group" was clustered in the middle, with the rest of the seniors from the other choirs surrounding us. Somebody started singing songs from our freshman and sophomore years in choir, and everyone joined in, laughing and crying all at once. We were a spectacle.
Our group left the seniors and joined Timmy and Scowly-Bling in the CRH, so we could have some private pictures. It seemed like everyone's parents were there to take pictures except mine, but I wasn't the only one. [Mine were here on Friday, and Thadd and Timmy and I took a couple of photos by Oedipus and Antigone, and Thadd's parents were here before, too ...] I'm excited to see our line-up shot - it's like show choir, sort of, and I've got a yoga pose going on.
But it's the end. And it's also started snowing. I'm not sure how I feel about either of those things.
Friday, December 3
Update
My GermanBuddhism prof. came back today. He got his hair trimmed, which means that the peninsula of hair that's left in the middle of his forehead is more pronounced than usual. It was a little bit funny, but all in all, I'm quite glad he got a new haircut. He looks much less crazy.
On Thursday, I had yet another meditation experience. Although I'm in a different class, Dustro's account is virtually the same, right down to "indigenous people's style." I have to say that I also sorely missed my zafu and zabuton [meditation cushions which are much better than the bacteria-laden wrestling room floor]. It was also hotterthantworats ... in that room - dis-GUS-ting.
In my previous post, I mentioned that Latin was terribly frustrating. I ended up skipping that class yesterday and going with Dustro to watch him get his license renewed and a trim.
Tonight we've got rounds two and three of Juletide. The 'rents are coming to round three.
I'm going to go. People are pressuring me for food.
On Thursday, I had yet another meditation experience. Although I'm in a different class, Dustro's account is virtually the same, right down to "indigenous people's style." I have to say that I also sorely missed my zafu and zabuton [meditation cushions which are much better than the bacteria-laden wrestling room floor]. It was also hotterthantworats ... in that room - dis-GUS-ting.
In my previous post, I mentioned that Latin was terribly frustrating. I ended up skipping that class yesterday and going with Dustro to watch him get his license renewed and a trim.
Tonight we've got rounds two and three of Juletide. The 'rents are coming to round three.
I'm going to go. People are pressuring me for food.
Thursday, December 2
Greek vs. Latin
I think I will cry if I have to translate any more of Curtius Rufus' history of Alexander. Either that or I will poke my eyes out.
Why is the New Testament easier to translate from Greek than Curtius' jumble of Latin? Aren't curly and odd-looking letters supposed to be harder to read?
I'm calling it a night. I will scream if I stay awake much longer.
Why is the New Testament easier to translate from Greek than Curtius' jumble of Latin? Aren't curly and odd-looking letters supposed to be harder to read?
I'm calling it a night. I will scream if I stay awake much longer.
Wednesday, December 1
World AIDS Day
I forgot to mention this in the last post. Today, Dec. 1, is World AIDS Day. A student group here on campus, SGAC [Student Global AIDS Campaign], is raising money for Iambi Hospital in Tanzania. They're also encouraging the student body to write hand-written letters to Representative Jim Nussle, the person who is in charge of divvying up U.S. funds in regards to AIDS. He is also a Luther alumnus. He has recently boosted funding, but only from much pressuring, especially from Luther students. Last year, a number of students signed a petition asking for the president of Luther to revoke a distinguished service award that Nussle was given earlier in the year. It was more like "distinguished disservice" (from this article).
So I guess what I'm saying is that if someone comes knocking on your door asking you to give money to help AIDS funding, do what you can.
So I guess what I'm saying is that if someone comes knocking on your door asking you to give money to help AIDS funding, do what you can.
Oh my god!
Further proof that my ass gets in the way:
On Sunday at the rehearsal, Collegiate, Cathedral, and Nordic choirs were all getting info on the last move we're supposed to make (so the finale looks pretty). We had to sit down on the risers, which I hate. So I'm sitting, I'm almost to the riser, and I sit on someone's shoulder. I almost took her down. I felt so embarrassed, and I said, "Oh my god! I just sat on your shoulder!" And she told me that it was ok.
Yesterday, though, I happened to mention it to her, in jocular fashion as usual, and she replied that she had sat on someone's head, so I shouldn't feel so bad. And I didn't, and we laughed together.
I still can't believe that I sat on someone's shoulder.
On Sunday at the rehearsal, Collegiate, Cathedral, and Nordic choirs were all getting info on the last move we're supposed to make (so the finale looks pretty). We had to sit down on the risers, which I hate. So I'm sitting, I'm almost to the riser, and I sit on someone's shoulder. I almost took her down. I felt so embarrassed, and I said, "Oh my god! I just sat on your shoulder!" And she told me that it was ok.
Yesterday, though, I happened to mention it to her, in jocular fashion as usual, and she replied that she had sat on someone's head, so I shouldn't feel so bad. And I didn't, and we laughed together.
I still can't believe that I sat on someone's shoulder.
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